A Modern Tomboy - L. T. Meade (best fiction books to read txt) 📗

you will change it for me. Come at once, Irene."

Rosamund took her friend's hand and led her upstairs to her room. Now, Irene's bedroom was not at all an attractive place to go into. In itself it was an exceedingly large and airy apartment, and the furniture was excellent. But the small bed was drawn up close to the window, and was more cot than bed, having iron bars all round it. Near the bed were several jars and basins containing toads and frogs and newts and water creatures of all sorts. Besides these, there was a box of caterpillars, most of which had escaped, and on the mantelpiece Irene proudly pointed to a bottle of leeches.

"I bought them, for a pound that I had given to me, from a chemist; and when any of the servants are quite determined to stick in the place I let the leeches loose, and that generally sends the housemaids away. I wouldn't part with my darling leeches for all the world. Do you see how they are dancing now? That means rain. When they lie quite sullen at the bottom of the glass, then I know we are going to have fine weather. That one on the stalk—do you see how he is wriggling, poor sweet pet?—that one I call Fuzz, and this one at the bottom of the glass is Buzz. Then there are their children, Thunder and Lightning, and the little Stars. The Stars are the tiny ones. I manage them myself. I love them better than any of my pets. Would you like me to take them out? You'll see how they crawl about on the floor; only they get rather dusty. Do you mind?"

"Not in the very least," said Rosamund.

"Well, you have spunk! You know, if you annoy me in any way, I should think nothing of putting either Fuzz or Buzz into your bed."

"Then I should leave the next day, that's all," replied Rosamund in a calm voice. "I shouldn't be afraid; but I should simply go. If you want me to be your friend you must not play tricks of that sort. But we needn't talk any more about leeches now. They seem happy and well. Let me see what dresses you have."

Rosamund herself opened the wardrobe and took out a quantity of beautiful dresses of all sorts and descriptions, mostly white washing silks and muslins and cambrics. She chose a neat white cambric, and insisted on Irene putting it on. She fastened it on the little girl herself, and saw that it fitted her perfectly. She then brushed her hair and made her wash her hands, which this wild tomboy strongly objected to. But Rosamund was firm.

"I hope you're not always going to be like this," said Irene, stamping her foot.

"Oh, dear, no! because soon you will do it for its own sake. Now, here's a long mirror; come and see yourself in the glass. Can't you fancy what you are like?"

But Irene started away.

"No, no, no!" she said. "There's a pool at the bottom of the garden, and there are water-lilies all around it. We'll go, both of us, and look at ourselves there; that will be much prettier."

"As you please. I am quite indifferent; only I want you to respect yourself, Irene."

"Respect myself? But then, no one else does."

"Well, I intend to respect you, and I can only do it by your respecting yourself. Come along; let us look at ourselves in the pool. I am considered fairly good-looking—I don't pretend to deny it; but I am nothing to you to-day, for you gave me a very tiring night."

"So I did, you poor dear! This white dress is rather nice, but I wouldn't wear it for mother for all the world; I only wear it now. Now then, come along."

The two raced downstairs; the servants peeped out from different corners in astonishment. Miss Irene, who would make such a show of herself, was absolutely pretty in her shady hat of softest white, and her white dress to match, and that face, which, notwithstanding all her naughtiness, was and must ever be beautiful above ordinary faces.

By-and-by the girls reached the pool. They both fell on their knees, and Rosamund desired Irene to gaze at her reflection.

"Here are some forget-me-nots," said Rosamund. "I am going to make a wreath to put round your hair. Take your hat off."

She made a little wreath in a few minutes, and twined them through Irene's curling locks.

"Now look again. What do you see?"

"Why, she is somebody rather—I mean she is beautiful, very beautiful," said Irene in a low voice. "But she is not me."

"She is you. Look again. Don't you see that soft little mouth, and that nose, so beautifully formed, and those bright, bright eyes, and that hair, and the whole thing? It was God who made you, Irene, and He made you beautiful, and beautiful people have a great gift."

Irene ceased to look at herself. She flung off the forget-me-not wreath and turned to Rosamund.

"Now, what do you mean by all this lecturing?" she said.

"Beautiful people have a great responsibility," continued Rosamund in a stout voice. "They are sent into the world to make it better. As far as I can make out, up to the present time you have done nothing whatever but make the world worse. You have never, so far as I can tell, been kind to your mother. You have made the servants most unhappy. You have done your utmost to render your governesses' position impossible."

"Because I hate them, and don't want to learn."

"Not want to learn," said Rosamund, "with that forehead so full, so intelligent? Why, you could learn in a flash. You could get knowledge with the utmost ease, and you would love it when once you began. If I am to be your friend you have got to turn over a new leaf. There, I have said enough about yourself for the present. Just let us walk about until tea-time."

"No; I want to go in the boat."

"We won't go in the boat till after tea. I want to talk to you."

"I wonder why I am obeying you?" said Irene, slipping her hand inside Rosamund's.

"Because I mean you to."

"I wonder why I'm not hating you?"

"Because if you did I should leave you."

"I couldn't let you go. It seems to me the whole world is different since I got you. But do tell me, you are not very good yourself?"

"I am not at all so good. Ask the people at Sunnyside what they think of me. There is my dearest friend lying at death's door—that is not my fault, of course; but when I can smile at all when I remember her, you must see for yourself that there is a great deal that is very far from good in me. But there, now, I want to talk about Miss Frost."

"Now, why?" said Irene. "That horror! That dreadful stick-in-the-mud! Oh, she is detestable! I cannot tell you how I loathe her."

"You do, because you don't understand her."

"And pray do you?"

"I understand her more than you do; and in any case I could not be cruel to her."

"But she is so old, and so ugly."

"I thought you didn't mind about people's appearance. You said so a minute ago."

"Well, I didn't; but it seems to me that you have opened my eyes. If I am so beautiful I ought to be with beautiful people, like you, Rosamund; for, now I come to look at you, you are very beautiful."

"It is by no means necessary that you should be with beautiful people; but you should give pleasure to people who are not beautiful, because they would like to look at you, and hear your voice, and be refreshed by your kind actions."

"Good gracious me! Kind actions!" said Irene.

"In future I believe they will be kind. Now, please understand you have been exceedingly cruel to Miss Frost."

"I want her to go."

"She is not going."

"How do you know? I did think those wood-lice would finish her. I thought and thought, and the happy idea came to me this morning. I was quite certain she'd give notice, just as Carter did. They could take her on at the Merrimans'. It seems to me that my governesses always find a berth near, so as to spread the fame of my dreadful character."

"Well, she is not going. She can't go. She has a little brother and sister, and she has got to provide for them."

"What do you mean by that?"

"She has got to feed and clothe them, and to put them to school, and do everything for them. If she left your mother's house she would have no money, and might find it difficult to get another post. So she is not going. I asked her to stay, and she is going to teach me as well as you."

"Dear me!"

"Yes; and we are going to make it exceedingly interesting. I mean you to learn a lot. I assure you, if I come here and give up the next few months of my life to you, I don't mean to do nothing in the time. I want to work hard, and you will have to work hard too. I am not bound to stay with you for a single hour. The moment your pranks begin, the moment I hear of any more toads being put into the bread-pan, or wasps and caterpillars descending on poor James's head, or spiders put down the housemaids' backs, or leeches being allowed to run about your bedroom, I shall just go off. If you want me you must refrain from that sort of thing."

"But won't I have any outlet?"

"Indeed you will have plenty."

"Of what sort?"

"You will see. But there is the tea-bell; let us go in."

Irene looked wonderfully thoughtful, for her. She walked slowly by Rosamund's side into the house. Still slowly, and with that thoughtful expression on her face; she passed along the hall until she reached the pretty parlor where tea was always served. Here Lady Jane herself was waiting in a state of nervous expectancy, and here was Miss Frost, very pale, shaky, and troubled, declaring stoutly to Lady Jane that "they" were running about inside her still.

When the girls entered there was a moment of silence, then a start of surprise, for Irene in white, and wearing her pretty shady hat, looked a totally different Irene from the untidy little creature who usually rushed about in her red frock at all hours and seasons. Rosamund gave Lady Jane a warning glance to take no notice of Irene, who flung herself, very much in her old manner, into a chair exactly opposite Miss Frost.

Of course she was going to be good. At least she supposed she must. It was horrid work, she so infinitely preferred being naughty; but then there was Rosamund, and Rosamund wished it, and she—oh, she did not really think she loved Rosamund, but she had a strange sort of longing to be with her, and Rosamund was free as air, and could go at any moment. Therefore, to keep Rosamund, she must be good. But that needn't prevent her staring hard at Miss Frost, which she proceeded to do with great alacrity.

Meanwhile Lady Jane poured out tea, and talked in her lady-like and refined tones to Rosamund, who replied in exactly the same style.

"Are they alive still?" asked Irene when there was a slight pause in the conversation; and she fixed her dancing eyes full on her governess's face.

"Oh, Irene, it was unkind!" began Miss Frost; but Rosamund hastily interrupted.

"Irene, you know what I mean. That subject is not to be alluded to. Miss Frost, I beg of you not to speak of it before Irene, and do for goodness' sake eat a good meal. Forgive me, Lady Jane, but I want us all to have a very good tea; and as it is such a lovely, lovely day, may we go for a little picnic afterwards, and take